


Realizations

by Settiai



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blood, Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash, The Black Emporium Exchange, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26336188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/pseuds/Settiai
Summary: Looking back, Alistair wasn’t entirely sure when he actually started liking Zevran instead of, well, wanting to strangle him on a regular basis.
Relationships: Alistair/Zevran Arainai
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	Realizations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vegetablearian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegetablearian/gifts).



Looking back, Alistair wasn't entirely sure when he actually started liking Zevran instead of, well, wanting to strangle him on a regular basis. It felt like it came out of nowhere, even though he was fairly certain that wasn't actually the case. The odds were the shift had been happening for a while, and he'd just been too blind to notice it.

That sounded like him.

He wasn't sure _why_ he'd disliked Zevran from the moment they met. Maybe the whole "trying to kill them" thing? Probably the whole "trying to kill them" thing. That made sense. It was a pretty good reason not to like someone.

Besides, it wasn't as if it was entirely one-sided. Alistair was pretty sure that Zevran had disliked him just as much when they first met. And it wasn't as if Alistair had tried to kill _him_.

... well, technically, Alistair _had_ tried to kill him what with the whole "fighting back" bit after they'd been attacked. But it hadn't been anything personal. Not like actually taking on an assassination contract.

Still, the point of the matter stood. Alistair had somehow gone from being of the mind that it wouldn't be all that sad of a thing if Zevran were to accidentally walk off a cliff and disappear from their lives to being worried about the fact that their fool of a rogue apparently didn't know how to duck when people shot arrows at him. It was a pretty big shift, and he honestly didn't know when or how it had happened.

It just, you know, had happened. Kind of a like a shield to the face.

"You realize that you're supposed to avoid getting hit by the sharp, pointy sticks when people shoot them at you, right?" Alistair asked, biting his lip as pressed down on Zevran's shoulder and tried to keep him from moving too much until Leliana got back with Wynne.

At least they'd learned their lesson by now, heading out to gather firewood and other camp supplies as a group rather than sending one person off on their own. Alistair didn't even want to think about how bad this whole situation would be if there'd only been one of them when the bandits had shown up instead of three.

"I knew that I was forgetting something," Zevran shot back, grimacing as he reached out to touch the arrow sticking out of his chest only for Alistair to bat his hand away. Again.

"Don't touch it," Alistair said sternly or, at least, as sternly as he could. He thought that it was probably coming across somewhere in the same general vicinity as stern. Or maybe just concerned. That was a possibility too. "I told you, I'm pretty sure it would be a very bad idea to pull it out before Wynne gets here."

Zevran rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine," he said. "It's not the first time—"

"—you've been shot, and it won't be the last time," Alistair cut in. "Yes, yes, I heard you the last three times you said it. I'm not deaf."

"You could've fooled me," Zevran muttered under his breath. It was quiet and clearly not meant for Alistair's ears, but it was difficult to miss considering just how close the two of them were.

Alistair flinched. He didn't mean to, but it happened before he could stop it. It's not like he wasn't used to hearing things like that. Most people thought that he didn't listen or he didn't think or he didn't understand... or some combination of the three. It wasn't anything new.

It surprised him how much it hurt hearing Zevran say it, though. Since when did he care what an Antivan Crow thought about him?

There was a long, awkward silence. "I did not mean that," Zevran said finally. His voice was quieter than usual, a little softer around the edges.

"It's fine," Alistair said, pointedly not meeting his gaze. He didn't think he was quite up to that just then. "I know that I don't, that is, I know I'm not—" He cut himself off, stopping his mouth before it could run off and say something that he'd regret. "Leliana should have made it back to camp by now. I'm sure she'll be back with Wynne any time now."

Zevran didn't say anything and, after the silence continued long enough that Alistair felt a pang of worry in his chest, he looked back down. The last thing he wanted was for Zevran to die on him before Wynne got there.

He was a little surprised to see Zevran still conscious and not passed out. It was odd, seeing him awake but not talking. There he was, though, clearly aware of what was happening but simply staring up at Alistair with a look on his face that looked almost... almost... well, puzzled, for lack of a better word. He was staring at Alistair as if he was some type of locked chest that he was trying to figure out how to unlock, which was – quite frankly – more than a little disconcerting.

"How's your chest?" Alistair asked, grimacing a little at just how little he managed to hide the worry in his tone. "Any trouble breathing?"

Zevran brought up a hand and waved it, as if to indicate that it was nothing. Which would have been a lot more believable if that movement didn't immediately make him arch his back with pain as if he'd just remembered there was a _fucking arrow_ in his chest that meant moving his arms was a really, really, really bad idea.

"Oh, for the love of—" Alistair pressed down on Zevran's shoulders again, holding him firmly in place. "Stop moving until the spirit healer gets here to, you know, heal you." He couldn't help but roll his eyes. "And people say I'm the idiot."

"Anyone who says that clearly doesn't know you," Zevran said, his voice a bit more breathless than it had been just a moment or two earlier.

Alistair snorted but didn't say anything. He wasn't particularly in the mood to argue with someone who he wasn't entirely certain wasn't bleeding out just then.

There was a pause. "You don't believe me," Zevran said quietly, and he sounded... well, he sounded almost surprised, and Alistair had no idea whatsoever how to react to that. "Why don't you believe me?"

If it wasn't for the fact that they were sitting on the ground in the middle of a forest, surrounded by corpses as Zevran's body did its best to expel as much blood as possible out onto the wrong side of his skin, Alistair probably wouldn't have answered. Or, at the very least, he wouldn't have answered seriously. He would have made some type of joke about knowing better to believe anything that came out of Zevran's mouth, which would have probably made _him_ flinch and say something biting back, and...

Actually, come to think of it, Alistair had a pretty good idea just why he and Zevran had gotten off on the wrong foot. Maybe it wasn't quite as big of a mystery as he'd thought.

Still, if the circumstances had been different, Alistair probably wouldn't have answered honestly. He almost didn't even as it was. But there was something that stopped him from shooting off at the mouth, even if he wasn't entirely sure what it was. The look on Zevran's face, maybe? Something about his tone of voice? Or maybe it was just the fact that Alistair could feel blood seeping into his clothes, and he was almost certain none of it was his own.

"People aren't exactly wrong when that say that about me, you know," Alistair said. His grip on Zevran's shoulder tightened on its own accord, almost without him even realizing it. "There's a reason it gets said so often."

Zevran started to shake his head, but he stopped with a groan before he managed to turn it more than a tiny bit. Pain flickered across his features again. "You aren't a fool," he argued, his voice firmer than it had been. "Perhaps a bit naïve at times, but not a fool."

Alistair snorted, even though he honestly didn't find it very amusing. Another trickle of worry made its way through him. "I think the blood loss is getting to you," he said, glancing over his shoulder in the direction where Leliana had disappeared. How long did it take to get Wynne? He didn't think they'd wandered all that far from camp. Had they?

"Bah. This is nothing. I've had much worse," Zevran said, and it would have been a lot more believable if he hadn't hissed in pain halfway through and almost not been able to finish what he was saying.

He closed his eyes, taking a few long but shallow breaths, clearing trying to breathe through a wave of pain. Alistair felt another one of those odd pangs in his chest. If someone had told him a couple of months ago that he'd be on the verge of a panic attack at the idea of Zevran dying on him, he would have laughed in their face. As it was, though, he was having a lot of trouble trying to get his brain not to completely freeze at the thought.

Alistair honestly couldn't imagine his life _without_ Zevran there, and he had no idea when or how that had happened. It was a bit terrifying, not that he particularly wanted to admit it.

"Hey, hey, no closing your eyes," Alistair said, squeezing Zevran's shoulder a little tighter and trying not to feel guilty as it caused the elf to grimace. "If I don't get to take a nap, then neither do you. Sorry. Those are the rules."

Zevran chuckled, even if there wasn't much humor in it, but he opened his eyes again. His gaze met Alistair's, something unreadable in it that Alistair had no idea whatsoever how to interpret. "My apologies," he said, giving Alistair what seemed like a fairly half-hearted wink. "Who am I to argue with my Warden?"

Alistair felt his face redden. He opened his mouth to say... well, he didn't know exactly what he was going to say, but there was definitely going to be something coming out of his mouth. Before he had a chance, though, he heard the sound of what sounded like a small herd of druffalo heading in their direction and several familiar voices shouting out both his and Zevran's names.

If he felt a bit of disappointment mixed in with the relief that flooded through his body at the sound, well, nobody had to know. Well, except for maybe Zevran, judging by the look on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter. (https://twitter.com/settiai)


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